This dispatch comes from Boston, adopted city of my daughter, and where we are gathering for Easter.

We stay at a hotel a few T-stops from where she lives, the same place we’ve been staying at for six years. It’s not fancy, but we like it: it’s tucked off Commonwealth Ave (therefore quiet), it’s close to the T (so we don’t have to drive anywhere), and they have a perfectly fine continental breakfast (so we can eat and go). I also like the hilly, tree-filled site, nestled into a neighborhood.

After posting this, dearest husband and I are going for a little ramble-around while our son sleeps on.